Werewolf Week: Werewolf: The Devil's Hound

Welcome back again fellow fans of film and enjoy Day 3 of Werewolf Week.  (There wolf.  There castle.)   Looking at the cover of this flick and the title alone it sounds like it may be worthwhile but this little white duck has been down this creek so many times I am a trifle jaded so let's put on the elephant enema gloves, a gas mask and painter's coveralls then tackle this movie house masterpiece.  This is Werewolf: The Devil's Hound a.k.a. Lycan.

Dad pants show off a competent hunter!

Our opus opens with three guys looking like they are on an outing for airsoft when they are attacked by choppy camera work attempting to give a fast zoom effect with no stabilizer or the ability to undercrank the film by 1/4 its speed.  Looks like it is shot on HD handheld for picnics and family outtings.   Our elite cadre of werewolf trackers/hunters tranq the creature in someone's backyard.  The filming locations claim Conneticut had to put up with this gathering of summer stock rejects that project too loudly and are as subtle at staring at the camera as much as the cast of Sleepaway Camp III.    After the great white hunt, our trackers UPS the critter in the box and airship it to the states from the remote areas of suburban Europe?   Next time get a more believable house and guys that can do accents please.


Our story is mostly revolving around a young pyrotechnician named Kevin (Michael Dionne of Crippled Creek, Whirlygirl, Blood Descendants and Little Soldier) who is happily married and loves his job.   Apparently he and his buddy are repairing these fairly made prosthetic park droids and their fireworks rigs that got smashed by the Vandals??  That band isn't struggling for headlines that much, are they?   So racist phone call later as Kevin's wife Liz (Jennifer Marsella of Werewolf: The Devil's Hound) calls Chinese firecracker specialists and you know they are Chinese thanks to the mandolin music in their warehouse or I might have mistaken them for Puerto Ricans.  This film drags for about an hour after werewolf wench scratches little Kevin and we go for an hour of strobing and flashing with fast zoom camera effects to kill just about any photophobic.

Your breath smells like Beer Nuts. Go away.

The band of supernatural paramilitary hunters with as much training as a gaggle of ten years old playing war have subject us to exposition, back story, crappy accents and more prat falls than a Stooges marathon.  The creature transformation has enough post production effects to drive a photophobic into a coma.  Personally, I thought I was going to yack on the keyboard.


Complaints about the film at this time.  This isn't even shot on 35 mm HD, just a format for home movies.  They know next to nothing about lighting, I hear more wind than dialogue so no sock for the boom mic and our terrifying werewolf vixen was wearing sneakers in more than a couple of shots.  Nice blocking, doofus. Directors/writers Gregory C. Parker and Christian Pindar could benefit from some technical experience on a film or TV set or heck, here's a nutty idea.  GO TO FILM SCHOOL, JACKASSES!!!

 
The stunts are less credible than a backyard wrestling fiasco and my head is nicely throbbing from the half assed attempts at arty camera techniques. USE A STABLIZER!!  One, it will make your film a bit smoother.  Two, it offers easier run in the woods without looking like there is an epileptic behind the camera and most importantly, people prone to seizures don't die from your flick and their families don't sue you!!!   This story was flat, the characters one dimensional, the action aside from the funky rigged robots was laughable.

Down Chewie!!